Long Fuckin' Night
by HelloAnon
Summary: A friend asked for drive-in movies and street racing, and I'd been meaning to write a Satan's Mothers fic for a bit. Spider and Tiny are Co-Warlords, and just...cute. Side note, I go by movie-canon body types for the Satan's Mothers, which is "skinny white kids in jean vests and yellow tee shirts." I have a really hard time taking any of these gangs seriously. Have fun.


**Long Fuckin' Night**

"C'mon Tiny, we gotta get going." says the smaller man tugging at my sleeve. I sigh and roll my eyes, cracking my knuckles to get everyone's attention.

"Spider wants to go see some flick at the drive-in, so get your asses in gear." I say. Everyone nods, throwing on their jean vests and grabbing their keys from the table by the door. We start up our motorcycles and pull out, making one hell of a ruckus. Goober and Spice are screaming as loud as they can, then breaking into fits of laughter like fucking sixth graders. Kevin K and Spice are revving their bikes and popping wheelies, jumping over shit, and just generally being stupid assholes. Spider and I take the lead, keeping distance between us and our brothers, so we don't get run over by these fucking idiots.

We finally get to the theater, a double-feature of some flick called Willard and Jaws. Spider is really excited for Willard, and I can't help but smirk. The dude was like a two-year-old when it came to horror films. I send Goober to get popcorn and put Kevin K on sodas. Spice and Ted are eyeing some ladies across the way, and I tell them not to fuck with them until after Willard, at least. I don't want us getting kicked out until Spider's seen his movie.

The movie's okay, it's about some kid and a shit ton of rats. Spider almost fell off his bike, laughing because Ted had screamed about some shit. About halfway through, the Rogues pull in, in that beat-up shitbox they call a car. Luther climbs out to sit on the hood with his Warchief, but he spots Goober and Kevin K fighting almost right away, sliding off the hood and walking over to me and Spider.

"What the fuck're ya doin' here?" he asks. I clench my fists and let Spider do the talking, it's all I can do not to beat his smug little face into a pulp.

"Watchin' the fuckin' movie. Go the fuck away, asshole." Spider says, returning his attention to the flick. Luther glares at him, then starts poking my arm.

"What're ya doin', huh? What? What? What?" he drones. His stupid, whiny little voice and bitchy attitude are enough to send anyone over the edge, and he made the mistake of tormenting me. With one good punch he's wailing on the ground and Spider is laughing and cheering.

"Nice one!" he says, patting my back. I snort and roll my eyes, and he sticks out his tongue. Luther's Warchief, Cropsey or some shit, is next to him, pulling him up and making sure he's okay before turning to us.

"You're lucky we wanna watch the movie, punks." he says, pointing at us and glaring.

"The Punks aren't here, stupid." Spider says, smirking.

"Shut up, ya ass. You 'n you're gang, race us. Cannonball run, here to the Punk's roller rink." he says. I laugh and Spider grins.

"Sure thing. Ten bucks says we win." Spider says.

"Ten bucks says you die." Cropsey says, trying to sound menacing and failing.

"Sure thing. After the movie though." Spider says, giving the stupid fuck a wave to dismiss him. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before spitting on the ground and climbing onto the roof of the car to watch Willard.

After the movie, Luther walks over, wearing some shit-eating grin like he runs the fucking drive-in.

"Time to race, assholes." he says, and everything about him makes me want to stab him in the face with a fork.

"Sure thing." Spider says, kicking his bike into gear and revving it. Pretty soon everyone's on their bikes, waiting for the signal. Dee Dee leans out of one of the shitbox's windows and starts counting down.

"Three...two...one!" he shouts. On one we all take off, screaming down the street. Nobody expected the Rogues to play it clean, and sure enough Patches pulls out a gun and tries to shoot out Kevin K's tire. He drops back, falling in behind the Rogues and popping a wheelie, pushing forward until his tire's running on their bumper. He jumps in his seat and rides over their roof, taking the lead.

Goober starts hooting and whistling, driving up on the sidewalk to slam his bike against their car. Ted and Spice cheer him on, laughing and pumping their fists in the air. Spider's glaring at the bumper, and starts pushing his bike faster. In one deft movement he's on and over the rust-bucket car, joining Kevin K in the lead.

We keep racing, Ted and Spice having taken up one half of the sidewalk, jabbing at the Rogues through open windows. Goober dos the same on the other side, and I bring up the rear, making sure they don't drop back and pull any shit. Kevin K keeps dropping back to bump their front bumper, which is pissing Luther off and making Spice laugh his ass off.

I see the Punks' hideout coming up and signal to Ted, Spice, and Goober. They nod and pull in front of the shitbox, and I take up the side Goober was on. I flip Tommy, or Johnny, the bird and pull up next to Spider.

"We've got this in the bag, Tiny!" Spider yells, grinning. I smirk and nod. I signal to the gang and we all skid to a stop, Ted a little closer to the Punks' door then they'd probably like. Vance sticks his head out, angry.

"What the fuck are ya doin' way the fuck out here?" he asks, gesturing with a pair of tongs.

"Dude, were you cooking?" Spice asks from behind me.

"Ya didn't answer my fucking question, now shut up and let your Warlords speak." Vance says.

"Cannonball run with the Rogues, from the drive-in." I explain. Vance nods and turns around, calling for his Warchief.

"Who started it?" Vance asks.

"The Rogues."

"Who finished it?"

"We did!" Spider says. Vance smirks and nods.

"Ed, get the rest of the group. Luther's gonna be real pissed with them, so let's take the opportunity to wreck their piece-of-shit car." he says to his Warchief. The guy nods and calls the rest of the gang over.

"Not a word, y'here?" Vance says. Spider and I nod, this will be hilarious. Sure as shit, Luther comes storming out, all of his gang tailing him. The Punks slip past, each one with a wrench or hammer. Spider's covering his mouth his hand, and I stand up, turning and walking away from the Rogues with the rest of my brothers behind me.

"Where the fuck're you going?" Luther shouts, running after us.

"What do ya want, ya whiny midget?" I ask, glaring. Cropsey steps up to glare at me.

"Don't talk shit about 'im, he's more of a Warlord than you'll ever be." threatens the big fuck. I snort and Spider starts laughing.

"That's fuckin' priceless!" he exclaims, walking right up to Cropsey. He gets right in the guy's face, despite being about four inches shorter.

"Let's get one thing straight, yeah? You're an idiot. Your Warlord is a worthless, whiny piece of shit who couldn't take on anyone without either his gang or a fuckin' gun. So before you go tellin' us who's 'more of a Warlord,' take a look at the big fuckin' picture. You catch my drift, shit-for-brains?" he says. Cropsey backs off, nodding, but Luther steps right up to Spider.

"You sayin' I'm a wimp?" he hisses.

"No, you're clearly not a wimp since you're obviously someone's bitch. You can't be a wimp if you're takin' it up the ass every night. I'm sayin' you're a worthless piece of sewer scum who only takes it up the ass because he has no ability to fight without six other guys or a handicap. Sound right, Tiny?" Spider asks, smirking, his hands on his hips.

"Sound damn right. I'd say that description fits just 'bout perfectly." I say, stepping up besides my brother.

"I think it's about time we head home, huh guys?" Spider asks. Everyone nods and we brush past the Rogues to our bikes.

"You leavin' now? Why don't ya fuckin' fight, ya pussies?" shouts Luther. I turn to flip him the bird and smirk.

"Why don't ya try 'n make us stay?" I ask, starting up my bike. Luther glares at us as the rest of the gang starts up their bikes.

"By the way, have fun getting home!" Spider calls back, grinning. I hear Luther yelling shit as we ride away. I look back to see the Punks had broken all the windows and jacked their tires.

We ride the forty minutes back to our place and shut our bikes in the garage, heading inside and throwing our keys on the table, like every night. Once inside, we all toss our vests aside and crash on the couch and floor. Spider pops on the TV we jacked and sends Goober to get some popcorn.

"Aw shit, M*A*S*H is about to start! Change it man, change the channel!" shouts Ted from the floor, belly-crawling up to the TV to fuck with the dials. The dials clicks to the channel he wants about halfway through the theme.

Kevin K, Spice, and Goober all crowd around the popcorn and bag of chips they'd brought in from the kitchen, only moving away when I pushed their faces away from the bowl.

"Get your own shit if you're gonna act like that." I say, pulling up the popcorn between me and Spider. Pretty soon Spice and Goober start fighting over the bag of chips, which is probably empty at this point. Spider grabs the empty popcorn bowl and chucks it at Goober's head.

"Ow, the fuck was that for!" he cries out, rubbing the side of his head.

"Ted's tryin' to watch the show, and you're bein' annoying fucks. Get somethin' else if you're really that hungry." Spider says. Goober grumbles and drops the chips, grabbing the bowl.

"What if this was glass, man?" he calls from the kitchen.

"It isn't." Spider shouts back. Goober walks back in and sits down to watch Ted's show. I start to zone out until I feel something on my arm. I look down to see Spider, asleep and leaning against me.

"Dude, wake the fuck up." I say, shoving his face off my arm. He mutters something nonsensical and falls back against me.

"Wake the fuck up, Spider." I say, trying once again-unsuccessfully-to shove him off.

"DUDE!" I say, making Kevin K and Spice jump. I push Spider too hard this time, sending him sprawling off the couch. He slumps onto the floor, both legs in the air and one arm on his back, somehow still asleep.

I sigh and pick up my Co-warlord, carrying him into our room. I dump him unceremoniously on the bed and throw a blanket onto his face, shutting the door as I leave.

When I come back upstairs to sleep, I open the door to find that Spider has fallen off the bed, and somehow the blanket is still on his face. I roll my eyes and pick him up again, just for him to latch onto my shirt like a fucking koala bear.

"Dude, let the FUCK go of my shirt!" I say. When he neither lets go nor wakes up, I drop my arms out from beneath me, letting him drop to the floor with a thud. I climb into my own bed and fall asleep, the tangled pile of blanket and man snoring on the floor next to me.

"Ooooooow." moans Spider. I sit up and look at him.

"What?" I ask. He tries to stand up, but only succeeds in twisting himself up even more and falling back on his face.

"My back hurts." he whines I sigh and pick him up again, carrying him into the bathroom.

"You slept on the floor, that's why." I explain, filling up a glass of water and passing him two aspirin tablets from the jar.

"What? Why?" he asks, swallowing the tablets and water.

"You fell asleep on me. Then I pushed you onto the floor and you wouldn't wake up. I brought you to your bed and left, but when I came up to go to sleep you had fallen off. I picked you up, but you wouldn't let go of my shirt, so I dropped you and went to sleep. That's why." I tell him. He nods and gets up, tossing the blanket into the hallway.

"Let's get food." he says. I nod and lead the way downstairs, waking up our brothers as we go.

"Do we have any frosted flakes?" Spider asks, rummaging through the drawers.

"It sure as shit wouldn't be in the drawers if we did." I say with a smirk, pulling open a cabinet and passing him the box of sugar-coated flakes. He cheers and pours himself a bowl, heading into the whatever-room, as Spice dubbed it, to watch cartoons with Goober.

Jesus fucking christ was this dude a fucking toddler, but for some reason he ended up leader of a motorcycle gang. I sit down next to him with a piece of overdone toast and watch Scooby Doo for the rest of the morning.


End file.
